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^ VISION 



AND A 



* VOICE * 

FROM 



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'Ifa-L^A^d 



A VISION 



AND A 



Y©n©£ Pram 



TwcD) W©rM 



BEING THE EXPERIENCE OF 

MARY E. BURNS, 






AS RELATED BY HERSELF. 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 



^V R '" 



OF COvpJ^s 



)ULr l8 ^895 



7h 



or v* 



33~SS1 a - 



Rev. OTHO F. BARTHOLOW. 



11 1 knew a man in Christ. .. .whether in the body, I cannot tell, 
or out of the body I cannot tell, God knoweth. 

How that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable 
words ". . . . 



\s^ 






Copyright 1895 

by 

Mrs. Mary E. Burns, 
Brooklyn, N. y. 



Press of_ 

Collins & Day, 

138 Livingston St,, 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 



I 



* Introduction. 



£~T\A ELIGIOUS experience seeks every possible avenue of ex- 
//!/ pression. — It voices itself in music, architecture, sculptur- 
ing, painting and literature. In each the proportions have 
been so vast and the forms so beautiful that it would seem there 
was little to be added or desired. The narrative of this little 
book does not claim or aspire to do either — it is simply an attempt 
to voice in words an experience most real, unique and lasting. 

Its aim is the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom — the 
eternal good of the devout reader. 

All. who in the past years have known of the Christian life 
of the author, will understand, without introduction, the motive and 
the object of her unpretentious effort; will realize that it is the 
truth adapting itself to another of the myriads of forms in which 
it is the pleasure of the Father it be revealed. 
To the King be the glory. 



OTHO F. BARTHOLOW. 



Brooklyn, N. Y. 



CHAPTER I. 

DESIRE TO RELATE MY EXPERIENCE— BELIEVE GOB 
WILL BE HONORED BY SO DOING. 

" I was a wandering sheep, 
I did not love the fold ; 
I did not love my Shepherd's voice, 
I would not be controlled." 

r[7HE HISTORY I here relate is brief, yet I very 
*> much desire to make it public ; it stands con- 
nected with the most interesting and thrilling scenes 
of my life. Some may read it and be benefitted by so 
doing. I desire the good of others. To help any along 
the way that leads to the better land is the highest 
ambition of my life. Like one of old, I can truly say, 
" Come unto me, all ye that fear God, and I will de- 
clare what He hath done for my soul." I desire to 
make known, in some degree, the amazing love of 
Christ, to myself manifested. Not to do so would be 
upon my part base ingratitude. 

My life has been a checkered one. To go back upon 
its history is not my present purpose ; it would not 
prove of much interest or profit to the reader. I never 
indulged in any thing immoral ; I always believed in 
and reverenced the name of God. I always respected 
and loved the house of God. 

At the age of fourteen, through the earnest persua- 
sion of a friend when dying, I joined the Methodist 
Church. As a member I continued for many years, 



endeavoring not only to conform to the outward re- 
quirements of the same, but also to be religious ; and, 
like thousands, I felt a degree of satisfaction in so 
doing. I attended the various means of grace, I sought 
to quiet my conscience by a faithful adherence to all 
its outward forms and ceremonies. I often measured 
myself by those belonging to the church, who, claim- 
ing to be pious and devoted, whose short-comings I 
saw, led me to believe I was good, or at least as good 
as they. Thus I lived for a number of years, having 
" the form of Godliness, but denying the power 
thereof." 



CHAPTER II. 

MARRIAGE — BIRTH — DEATH — WIDOWHOOD. 

" He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance 
to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind." 

PT the age of twenty-one I was married and had a 
pleasant home for myself. Like thousands, who 
link their destinies with another, mine seemed bright 
and hopeful. I anticipated no trouble or sorrow. To 
add to the joy of my home there came to bless us a 
sweet babe, a daughter. As yet, no cloud had over- 
shadowed our home, nor did I expect any-. But how 
mistaken ! I was soon to enter the valley of sorrow. 
My husband was taken from me ; the shadow of death 
fell upon my household. My dear child was fatherless, 
and I was a widow. In my loneliness, more than ever, 
my heart clung to my child. I had not yet learned to 
look for help and comfort from the true source. She 
was my only comfort, my all. 

Three years later I again married, and soon after 
came to Brooklyn, where we settled. I very soon be- 
gan to attend religious services regularly, but did not 
become a member. The affairs of life went on smoothly 
for three years more, when a greater sorrow than I had 
ever experienced fell upon me. My dearest child, now 
eight years of age, who had woven herself deeply in my 
heart's affection, was taken seriously ill. I prayed for 
her life, I asked God that I might have her spared to 



me ; but for reasons that He knew and I did not, she 
was taken from me, and my heart seemed broken. I 
feared I should sink under the blow. 

The minister who attended her funeral, and who 
often visited me, seemed to enter into sympathy with 
me in my bereavement, and pointed my stricken heart 
to the only source of comfort. He said, " This is a 
call that you must not refuse. His voice to you in 
your sorrow is ' Daughter, give me thy heart/" He 
tenderly pointed me to that heavenly home, where the 
dear ones had gone. " Give yourself fully to Him, be- 
come his child, and you will again meet in that home 
that knows no parting." 

Stricken in heart I attended the Revival Services 
held in the Johnson Street M. E. Church. It was there 
I yielded myself fully to the Lord, to be saved in his 
own way. I did not seek in vain. The loving voice 
was applied to my poor heart. " Daughter, thy sins 
are all forgiven ; go, and sin no more." 

I now believe, and have ever felt, my conversion was 
sound and genuine. I united myself with the church 
and went forward in all its privileges. I was conscious 
of God's favor and smiles ; duty was a delight and 
privilege. This state continued for several years. I 
had no thought of ever turning aside, or losing my love 
for the dear Master who had done so much for me. 

It is with a degree of sadness, that I now relate how 
I lost the conscious sense of God's abiding love and 
favor. Troubles of a domestic character came to me. 
I was not equal to the pressure. I looked away from 
the Master and only to the waves and storm ; then, 
like Peter, I began to sink. Losing my conscious en- 
joyment, I again lapsed into formality. I attended 
church as before, but it was not from a love to the 



Master, but rather to silence an accusing conscience. 
I now sought to supply the demands and longings of 
my soul by worldly pleasures. I attended parties and 
ofttimes went to the theatre. This was my sad and 
perilous condition. My Father saw the backslidings of 
his child and sought to restore me to his fold again, 
saying to me, " Return unto me and I will return unto 
you." And it required deep and sad chastenings to 
bring this about, to which we may refer in the follow- 
ing chapter. 



tftv 



CHAPTER III. 

SUDDEN ILLNESS — STORM TOSSED— " SHALL I DIE 

TO-NIGHT ? " 

" I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord." 

TN the year 1886, upon the fourth day of the month, 
* it pleased God to visit me with a severe illness. I 
was suddenly stricken down ; very soon my symptoms 
became of the most alarming character. A physician 
was at once summoned, who coming, and after an 
examination, pronounced my case a hopeless one. 
Imagine, if one can, what my feelings were when he 
declared : " She is too far gone, and may die to-night." 
My disease was of such virulent form as no hope was 
entertained of my recovery. 

My friends urged him to do what he could ; he said, 
" I will try, but I have no hope." All this conversa- 
tion I heard, though not intended for my ears. Quick 
as a lightening's flash, these thoughts ran through my 
mind, " Suppose this night is to be your last on earth ? " 
Then came deep remorse of the past, my base ingrati- 
tude ; it stung my soul as with a deadly sting. A poor 
wretched sinner, and death, and a dread eternity staring 
me in the face, " May die to-night ! " still ringing 
through the chambers of my soul. O ! that fearful 
night ! Never can I forget it. Who can understand 
the horror of a poor, sinful, immortal soul, hovering 
over the dark precipice, ready to fall therein ? The 
Holy Spirit grieved — God angry, and heaven lost. 



I remembered dear ones whom I had promised to 
meet in the better land ; I thought of an awful hell — 
of a soul lost, and it seemed as if I already heard the 
howling of that storm that beats upon lost souls, 
doomed and damned. Such a fearful tide broke upon 
my mind, that reason tottered, and fell. As daylight 
broke, and its first faint light came into my window, 
it found me wild, and irrational. By noon-time, reason 
dethroned, returned, and I was capable of taking in 
the situation again. My first rational thought was, as 
I saw the light of day, " The night has passed, and the 
day has dawned, and I am yet alive." O God ! there 
is yet hope in my case ! Then, moved by the thoughts 
of mercy, I began to pray — I pleaded the merits of my 
dear Redeemer, whose love I had slighted, I asked 
pardon for the past sins of omission, and commission. 

While thus earnestly pleading, a "Vision" seemed to 
open before me. " I saw in the distance a hill, upon 
the top there was a very high cross ; while around its 
base a terrible storm raged. As I looked, I saw upon 
the top of the cross, a roll, which appeared like paper ; 
just close at hand there stood an Angel, whose duty it 
was to unroll the paper ; as this was being done, I 
could plainly see the writing upon the scroll, and it 
came forcibly to my mind, " These are the sins of your 
past life." For two days, and nights, I watched and 
read, as the Angel continued to unroll it. Not a 
moment of sleep came to my weary eyes. On the 
morning of the third day I became exhausted, I could 
look no longer. Closing my eyes, I cried out : "Blessed 
Lord, I cannot atone for the past, O let it be blotted 
out, and let me live only for Thee, for the time to 
come." Scarcely had I uttered the last word, when a 
distinct wave of blood passed over the cross, hiding it 



ii 



entirely from my sight. While gazing in rapture upon 
the blood, the Saviour appeared on its surface ; his 
Person was glorious to look upon ; in his hand he held 
a beautiful banner, which he waved over the blood, 
saying, " Thou art free ! " If I had a thousand tongues, 
I could not tell the world, the light and joy that filled 
my soul. I shouted, " Glory to God in the highest, 
and on earth peace, and good will to men ! " I sang 
and prayed, and gave vent to my feelings with shouts, 
and praises. The friends thought I had become de- 
ranged, and gone mad, and hastily called in the physi- 
cian. I told him what had happened, he seemed to 
understand, but said " I was very weak, and was en- 
dangering my life by talking ; my friends admonished 
me, and desired I should desist ; I said, " let me talk 
on, I am not afraid to die now ! yes, I prefer death to 
life, as I shall now be with Christ." My dear son, of 
whom I have made no mention, the only child of my 
second marriage, was sent for, he quickly came to my 
bedside ; while there he became overcome with grief, 
supposing I was dying ; he begged piteously, " O my 
dear mother, don't die? live for my sake.'' Calmly I 
sank into a sweet, quiet sleep ; but the cross — the 
blood, the Saviour were still before me ; I seemed to 
be with him. 

After a time I awoke, and O ! how refreshed. I 
looked for the objects that had filled my being with 
such rapture, but to my sorrow and disappointment, 
they had disappeared. In a simple, child-like manner, 
I cried out, " Dear loving Lord, why hast thou left me? 
O come back, again ! " I still continued to look in the 
direction where I had beheld the Saviour, upon closing 
my eyes the sweet vision, changed a little, appeared 
again. There was the blessed cross, while a beautiful 



12 



Angel reclined upon it, his appearance was glorious in- 
deed ; his raiment was white, and glistening like the 
sun. As he looked upon me he lovingly smiled ; I 
said, " O, do not leave me ; " for three days this beau- 
tiful sight remained before me. When I would fall 
asleep, I would say, " O do not leave me." When I 
awaked, my thoughts would be to see if he were yet 
there ; an overflowing gratitude seemed to fill my soul, 
and often I would say, " how good and kind you are to 
watch over the bed of a poor wretched one like me." 
Once during the second night I awoke and thought the 
Angel had departed, but looking a little closer, I saw 
him lying at the bottom of the cross, with his arms 
around it. 

But the beautiful, celestial vision was to change. In 
what followed, the contrast was very great ; beyond 
my feeble powers to describe. 



13 



CHAPTER IV. 

AN AWFUL VISION.— GIVEN INTO THE HANDS OF 
SATAN. 

"And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold he (Job) is in thine hand ; but 
save his life." 

TTPON the evening of the third day, while continuing 
^** to enjoy the sight of the blessed cross, and the An- 
gel reclining at its base, there appeared to me another 
Being, whom at once I knew, though no voice spoke 
his name, his whole form was horrible to behold ! with 
piercing eyes he looked at me, I knew him to be the 
Devil. Turning to the Angel, who still remained, he 
said : " How watchful, and mindful you are of this 
person ; give me power over her for a season." 

Some other words were said which I failed to under- 
stand. The Angel said, " I will give you power over 
her for three days, but, you must not lay a finger upon 
her, nor do her any harm." Immediately to my great 
sorrow the Angel disappeared, and I was left alone with 
the Devil. There was yet one thing that gave me com- 
fort. Although the Angel was gone, I was still con- 
scious of his presence, and it was a comfort to me to 
know that after three days I should see him again ; but 
what a great sorrow, combined with fear and horror, I 
felt, upon being left alone with this horrible being. 
He turned to me and commanded me to follow him; 



doing so, in a little while I found myself in a place 
that language cannot describe, but I knew at once it 
was the abode of the lost and damned. 

In looking around, I was surprised to see no literal 
fire there ! I said " We are taught on earth that hell 
is a dark, bottomless pit, burning with fire and brim- 
stone ; but here I see none." As I gazed upon the 
awful scene, it came to me that the element of fire is 
not needed to make wretchedness and woe complete. 
I cried out " Dear Lord, let me leave this awful place ! " 
Immediately there came a thought of comfort to my 
feelings ; I heard a voice saying to me, " Do not fear, 
it is only for three days ; " while I seemed to hear the 
voice of the Angel saying, " Be of good cheer, I will 
not leave you comfortless." Then the fiend would 
whisper horrible thoughts and wicked suggestions — 
temptations to sin. 

I was conscious of a power to resist his wiles. I 
reminded him I belonged, soul and body, to the Lord. 
And moreover, I should leave him and his dismal 
abode. At the end of the three days he turned upon 
me a fiendish look I cannot describe. 

How strange it appeared to me that the Angel, whom 
I could not see, conversed with me all the while. 
" This that you now see," he said, " is Chaos." It 
appeared as a mass of confusion ; its fumes and odor 
were stifling, even to suffocation ; darkness reigned, 
save a faint, dim torchlight ; no sun shone there ; while 
on either hand the groans and howling of the lost were 
awful, beyond measure. Among the multitudes I saw 
none sitting. They were wandering to and fro in 
groups — their number seemed to be countless — as far 
as my eye could reach was one surging mass, giving 
vent to horrible imprecations and blasphemies. Upon 



15 



the countenance of all there was no ray of hope to be 
seen ; no smile, but grim, dark despair ! 

I wondered that the Devil paid no attention to any- 
one, not even noticing them for a moment. 

How different I thought with God and his people. 
What words of cheer and comfort does he impart. 

These miserable wretches enticed to commit sin, led 
by him to this dark abode, then left. The ruin of souls 
is his only object. I had expected the lost would re- 
sume the avocations here they followed on the earth, 
but I could see nothing going on, except they appeared 
to be planning some devilish scheme and deploring 
their lost condition in language no pen can write, or 
tongue describe. To this day, when the memory of 
their ruined condition comes upon me, it creates a sick- 
ening sensation, and I have to make use of every effort 
to shut it out of my memory. I wish here to say, 
when my thoughts recur to the scene, they are as vivid 
and real as the life and scenes of the city in which I 
reside. 

The morning of the third day dawned, the time when 
I was to be liberated from the presence and thraldom 
of Satan. As I journeyed along, the path seemed to 
be growing more and more rugged, yet the evil one 
was constantly by my side, taunting me about the past. 
It was with the greatest difficulty I could drag myself 
along. Suddenly, I felt a change, the air began to 
grow cold, a chilling sensation came upon me; it con- . 
tinued until I had arrived at the top of a very high 
hill, covered with snow and ice. I wondered what the 
hill was called ; a voice came to me, " This is the Hill 
of Desolation." From this moment the Devil disap- 
peared and I was left alone. 



t6 



CHAPTER V. 

LEAVING THE " HILL DESOLATION." — BLESSED RE- 
TURN OF THE ANGEL.— A VIEW OF THE 
HEAVENLY CITY. 



"They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more 

And God shall wipe all tears from their eyes." 

TT7HE closing of the last chapter found me upon the 
* " Hill Desolation," and alone. The chill of the 
icy atmosphere seemed to penetrate to my very heart. 
I could not resist nor overcome its influence. I be- 
came exhausted and I fell to the ground. In this con- 
dition I cried out : " O Lord, am I to die here alone?" 
Suddenly, I heard a voice speaking to me : " He that 
believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he 
live," and a hand gently raised me up. As I stood 
upon my feet, I looked, and to my surprise and joy, 
there stood before me again the Angel. He smiled, 
and reaching out his hand, said, " Follow me." I did 
so. Almost immediately the scene changed ; the 
rough and rugged way became smooth. And even the 
intense cold was gone, and a soft, balmy, fragrant at- 
mosphere took its place. The ragged, tattered gar- 
ments I had worn were replaced by a robe, beautifully 
white. The scene that met my gaze from every direc- 
tion was beyond description ; we walked through green 
fields, with flowers blooming on every side. At length 
we came to a gate, which for splendor dazzled my 



17 



eyes ; it stood ajar. I hastened to enter, but my An- 
gelic guide placed his hand upon my shoulders, and 
said, " Not yet." O, how disappointed I felt ! I said, 
" O, let me enter. I have dear friends within. A 
father, mother, sisters, and brothers ; and more than 
all, I have a precious child there. O, do not detain 
me!" "Yes," he replied, " I know it all. Yet thou 
hast a child on earth whose salvation is of the greatest 
importance ; go back again to earth and labor for this, 
so that when thou returnest thou mayest have two, in- 
stead of one." 

The thought was intensely interesting. " O yes," I 
said, " that will be glorious to see them and hear them 
say, ' Here comes our dear mother. We greet and 
welcome you.' " With this thought before me, I felt 
reconciled to return to earth again. Still, I stood gaz- 
ing with rapture and awe through the open gate, while 
the most seraphic music and singing floated through 
the air and fell upon my ravished ear. 

For a little while I was permitted to look in the dis- 
tance. I saw a beautiful stream of water, clear as 
crystal, gently flowing, and on its banks were em- 
bowered the richest foilage. "There," said the Angel, 
" is where the saints bathe their weary feet, after travel- 
ing over life's rough journey. On the banks they sit 
and talk of their wonderful salvation and deliverence 
from the world and sin. " Now," said he, " you must 
return to earth again, and I charge you not to fail to 
declare all you have felt, seen and heard." 

" Before you leave me, will you tell me about my 
relatives who have died ? Are they saved ? " 

" Yes," said he, " there is but one exception." The 
name he gave me. The one I called to mind as a skep- 
tic, who did not believe in a God. 



is 



The Angel and myself walked on in silence. I can- 
not describe the scenes through which he brought me. 
My feet seemed not to touch the earth ; a strange, 
gravitating power lifted me up and along. Coming to 
a beautiful hill covered with verdure, we paused. He 
commanded me to kneel, saying to me " You will now 
receive a sanctified blessing, ere you return to earth." 

I prostrated myself at his feet ; while kneeling there 
I thrice distinctly felt a wave pass over my soul. I 
felt this to be the blood of cleansing. As the third 
one came I cried out : 

" 'Tis done, the great transaction's done. 

I am my Lord's and he is mine. 
He drew me, and I followed on, 

Charmed to confess the voice divine." 

I desire here to say I had not believed in sanctifica- 
tion. I had said there is no such thing on earth, but 
now, oh, what a change had come upon me ; I arose so 
happy, so clean, and cried out " Washed in the blood 
of the Lamb." " How strange," I said to the Angel, 
" that blood should make white." " Yes," he replied, 
"but only the blood of Jesus." Journeying along we 
came to a river, whose waters were pure as crystal ; 
there at the shore was a boat, and at each end sat an 
angel, with folded wings. Then it came to me, " This 
boat is to take you back to earth again." How sorry 
I was to leave my guide, in whose company I had en- 
joyed so much. He said to me, " Be of good cheer, we 
shall meet again ; till then see that you fail not to tell 
all you have seen and heard." 

Then gently placing me in the boat, I left the shore. 
As we glided down the stream, a heavenly chorus of 
voices broke forth in song. 



19 



" To our bountiful Father above, 

We will now offer the tribute of praise." 

While this song seemed to come from heaven, there 
appeared to come up from the earth side, to which we 
were tending, voices which took up the chorus and 
sang: 

' ' In the sweet by and by 

We shall meet on that beautiful shore." 

And the song of heaven and earth met, and sweetly 
blended. Thus I again reached the earthly shore, and 
as I was leaving the boat and the river I sang : 

" Adieu ! vain world, adieu ! 

I can no longer stay with you. 

My glittering crown appears in view." 

It was in this heavenly frame of transport that I 
awoke to earth again, and I found myself back in the 
room where I was taken ill. 

The transition was so great that I commenced to 
weep, and I sighed " Oh, why did I come back to earth 
again?" I was so happy. My son, now nineteen 
years of age, was standing by my bed. I turned to 
him and said, " My dear child, they have sent me back 
from Heaven to help you to Jesus, to work for your 
salvation." He seemed deeply affected. In a few 
days he came to me, looking anxious and troubled. I 
asked him the cause ; he replied, " I have had a terri- 
ble dream." He related it to me. He thought he was 
being taken to the abode of darkness, but crying to 
Jesus, he said, " Yes, Jesus did help me." 

" Oh, mother, I wish I could get some other employ- 
ment ; I would gladly leave the stage ; " for that was 
his occupation. 



CHAPTER VI. 

" Write the vision, and make it plain — that he may run that readeth." 

FEEING so deeply impressed, as soon as I recovered 
*""^ strength I commenced to write the things shown 
me by both Demon and Angel; after recording thus far 
I was tempted to desist. Suppose you were to tell of 
this revelation, would you be believed? Would any- 
one receive your testimony? Would you not be 
laughed at, as one telling the vagaries of a disordered 
brain ? These thoughts deterred me, and for five years 
following, I tried to forget it, but I could not. The 
scenes described, were photographed upon my brain 
and soul. The charge given me by the Angel " not to 
fail to declare the vision," laid upon my mind as 
a heavy burden, every sermon I listened to, seemed to 
emphasize the duty required and the promise made. 
In a dream I was warned that if I failed, my arm 
would perish, and at another time, in the dreams upon 
my bed, I heard these words, as in thunder tones, 
" Woe to them that are at ease in Zion." I was 
brought to feel the great sin of neglect, and before the 
Lord, I promised to do what I had been bidden, I said 
sometime during this year I will surely finish writing 
the " Vision ;" but I thoughtlessly allowed the year to 
pass, with nothing done, save writing to a friend con- 
cerning the matter, who encouraged me, by saying 
" You ought to finish it." 



On New Year's Eve I attended Watch-night ser- 
vices at Johnson St, M. E. Church. To me it was a 
wonderful meeting, and upon others the Spirit was 
poured out from on high. It was here, while enjoying 
such an overshadowing of the Divine presence, there 
was renewed strongly, the importance of fulfilling my 
vow, to write — publish and declare the strange, yet 
wonderful things the Lord had revealed to me. Mean- 
while there came also in my mind a sense of my 
neglect, and disobedience. To move me more fully, it 
seemed necessary that some gentle discipline was need- 
ed, that my heavenly Father saw best to administer. 
As I returned from the Watch-night services, and had 
reached my home, I was seized by severe, excrutiating 
pain, which continued for twelve days without inter- 
mission. Under this discipline of suffering, I asked 
the Lord to give me relief, and then solemnly renewed 
my promise to obey his command, as revealed to me. 
My dear Lord heard my prayer, accepted the covenant 
again renewed, and not only relieved my pain, but 
gave me strength to arise from my bed, and begin the 
work, unfinished. It was for this, and to labor for 
the salvation of my Son, that I returned from the very 
gate of heaven, bearing in mind the promise made me 
by the Angel, that my two children would be there in 
due time to welcome me within those pearly gates. 



CHAPTER VII. 

SUDDEN AND STARTLING INTELLIGENCE — THE LAST 
LOVED ONE GONE. 

" Verily, thou art a God that hideth thyself." 

" What I do now thou knowest not, but thou shaltknow hereafter." 

JT7HE RECORD I make in this chapter is of the sad- 
* dest experience of my life. After a visit out 
West, where my son was at that time employed, the 
physician thought a change of climate would be bene- 
ficial to me, as I had poor health. Accordingly, I left 
the city and came on to Brooklyn, leaving my son 
there. I felt very sad at leaving him alone in a great 
city. In less than a year after he came to see me, 
spending two weeks. While with me he often spoke 
of that dream. He said he had told it to others. " I 
shall never forget," he said, " the beautiful face of 
Jesus." We separated, he returning to his home. I 
often received letters from him, seldom writing ; but 
he would ask me to pray for him, and often would 
write, " I want to become a Christian some day." O, 
that I had been more in earnest about his salvation. 
This thought often comes upon me with overwhelming 
force. One year and a half, when I was expecting him 
home again, I received a telegram from Columbus, 
Ohio, saying "Your son is dead." He was indisposed, 
a physician was called, who administered a powerful 
drug, that put him to sleep, from which he never again 
awoke. He died the next day without returning to 
consciousness. 

23 



The news well nigh broke my heart. He was my 
only child ; he was my all. I will try to bear the bur- 
den of an aching heart until I reach the land where 
there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor tears. 
What a comfort and consolation it would be to me if I 
only knew he was saved ; how it would soothe my 
journey through this mortal life. Yet I cling to the 
promise made me by the Angel, that on my return I 
should have the two children to greet me ; but I also 
call to mind what more he spoke to me, " You will 
return and labor for his salvation." 

To any who may read this sorrowful story, if you 
have in your home a child whose greatest good you 
would desire, whose salvation is of more importance 
than all the wealth of the universe, let a sad, bereaved 
mother speak to you. " Whatsoever thy hands find to 
do, do it with thy might." Let no opportunity pass 
to teach, to warn them ; do not cease your efforts until 
they are brought to the fold of the great Shepherd. 
Be kind, tender and loving to them ; hold them as 
much, and as long as possible, under your own maternal 
care. Pray for them, and often with them. Live closely 
to Christ yourself, that following you, they may be saved 
and that you may be saved the unutterable sorrow 
that has fallen upon my own heart, though " too 
late." O, that I had been true and faithful to my child ! 

And now my task is nearly completed. Too long 
have I delayed its writing. My neglect has cost me 
discipline and sorrow, but I trust God will accept the 
fulfilment of the promise made long since. 

With my earnest prayers shall this little booklet go 
forth, bearing a message from two worlds. Especially 
to young men would I, who have been a mother, crave 
a Father's blessing upon this, my feeble effort. 



24 



I cannot close without bearing testimony to His infi- 
nite love and goodness to me. How kindly he has led 
me into paths I knew not ; when my heart has been 
overwhelmed within me, then he has led me to the 
" Rock that is higher than I." When I have been cast 
down and despondent, I have heard a whisper in my 
soul, " Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him." 

I am reminded of some lines that came to me in a 
dream, a few days after the vision ; they were new and 
strange to me, I had never heard them before. 

I remembered a few lines only. I spoke to a friend 
about them, and desired him to find them for me if pos- 
sible. After a time he found them. They are so 
beautiful, and they seemed to touch so many points in 
my experience that I have adopted them as my own, 
and here give them to the dear reader : 



I. 



" The Master stood in His garden, 
Among the lilies so fair ; 
Which his own right hand had planted, 
And trained with tenderest care. 
He looked at their snowy blossoms, 
And marked with observant eye 
That his flowers were sadly drooping, 
For their leaves were parched and dry.' 



II. 

" My lilies have need to be watered, 
The heavenly Master said ; 
Wherein shall I draw it for them, 
And raise each drooping head ? 
Close, close to his feet, on the pathway, 
All empty, and frail, and small, 
Was an earthen vessel lying, 
That seemed of no use at all." 



25 



III. 

But the Master saw and raised it 

From the dust in which lay ; 

And smiled as He gently whispered : 

" My work it shall do to-day. 

It is but an earthern vessel, 

But close it is lying to me ; 

It is small, but clean, and empty, 

That is all it needs to be." 

IV. 

So forth to the fountain He bore it, 
And filled it full to the brim : 
How glad was the earthen vessel 
To be of some use te> Him ! 
He poured forth the living water 
All over His lilies so fair, 
Till empty was the vessel, 
And again He filled it there. 

V. 

The drooping lilies He watered, 
Till all reviving again, 
The Master saw with pleasure, 
His labor had not been in vain : 
His own hand drew the water, 
Refreshing the thirsty flowers, 
But He used the earthern vessel 
To convey the living showers. 

VI. 

And then to itself it whispered, 

As aside He laid it once more, 

I still will lie in His pathway, 

Just where I did before ; 

For close would I keep to the Master, 

And empty would I remain. 

Perchance some day He may use me 

To water His flowers again. 

At the close of the reading, I said, " I am that ' earthen 
vessel ' that was of no use at all ; but I am going to 



26 



keep close to the Master, that he may use me." And 
so, dear ones, I have tried to comfort others, and in 
doing so, I myself have been comforted. Nothing 
seems to bring such sweet peace to my soul as trying 
to help others. 

There are two things that most deeply impress me. 

First — There are lilies in the Lord's garden, many 
of them drooping ones, that need to be watered. I be- 
lieve the Master has a full supply. 

Second — I feel I am one of the Lord's " earthen ves- 
sels," through which this precious treasure is to be car- 
ried to sad and aching hearts. 

I can only bless others when I go to the Fountain 
and He himself shall 

" Use the earthen vessel, 

To convey the living showers." 

There is now no work so congenial to my chastened 
heart as this : To visit the bedside of the sick and 
dying ; to go to the homes of the poor and sorrowing ; 
to point such to the only Hope, the Refuge, for those 
who have failed to find it in this world. To whisper 
in their ears, " Come unto me all ye that are weary and 
heavy laden, and I will give you Rest." 

Already there has come to my ears from dying lips 
these words, " You led me to Christ. I shall watch for 
your coming, and will gladly welcome you there." 

These assurances, while they have humbled me, have 
been an inspiration and a new girding to my heart. In 
these paths " He leadeth me." Henceforth, I am to 
know nothing among men, save " Jesus Christ and Him 
crucified ! " 

" Happy, if with my latest breath, 
I may but gasp His name ; 
Preach Him to all, and cry in death, 
Behold ! Behold the Lamb." 



27 



TESTIflONIALS. 



The following testimonials are from those who are personally- 
acquainted with Mrs. Mary E. Burns, the Author of this book, 
and take pleasure in giving testimony to her Christian Character, 
and work. 

From the Rev. Francis C. Hill of the New York East Conference 
of the M. E. Church : 

" A Vision, and a Voice from Two Worlds " is a little Booklet 
written by Mrs. Mary E. Burns. Being her Pastor in Johnson 
St. M. E. Church, Brooklyn, for three years, we came to know 
some of the sad experiences of Sister Burns, as herein related. 
We remember the days of her Sorrow for Sin. We were present 
on that memorable occasion, when she entered into the liberty of 
of the children of God, and received her on probation, and into 
full membership in the Church of Christ. That initial experi- 
ence was deep, sound, and real, and during the three years we 
were her pastor, we ever found her the same earnest, devoted 
Child of God, and efficient worker in the Lord's Vineyard. 

The death of her son to which reference is made, was indeed a 
painful bereavement. We recall a time when he, but a child, 
was seriously ill, and we were summoned to administer the rite 
of baptism, it was thought by friends he was dying. " You must 
do it quickly said the physician." Omitting much of the form 
prescribed, we baptized him. Strangely, from that hour he be- 
came convalescent, and was soon restored to health. His death 
occurring in young manhood, removed her last and only child. 
No wonder a mother's heart clung so closely to him. 

To prepare her for so great a trial, there was appointed the 
strange, and singular experience herein recorded. In sick- 
ness and bodily distress, there came visions of the unseen. The 



2Q 



curtain that hides the spirit world, seemed to be drawn aside, and 
she heard the songs of the redeemed, and beheld their glory, also 
the agonies, and the waitings of the lost. 

Since that 14 Revelation," made to her, she has by anew devote- 
ment, and consecration, given herself more fully to God, and his 
service, and no employment seems to afford her so much pleasure 
as when engaged in helping some poor struggling soul into the 
kingdom, and when visiting the homes of destitution and want, to 
relieve them by all means in her power. In sending forth this 
little book, she has been compelled by necessity, laid upon her. 
It is the fulfilment of a sacred promise made to the voice she be- 
lieves from the Lord, " Write the Vision and make it plain, that 
he who runs may read." We trust a blessing to thousands may 
follow its reading. 

Huntington, L. I., FRANCIS C. HILL. 

June, 13th, 1895. 

From the Rev. R. H. Bosworth, Pastor of the Mayflower 
branch of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn : 

Sister Burns has for some time been a labourer in the Sunday 
School connected with my charge. It has been my delight, and 
comfort, to witness the earnest spirit of service and devotion 
which she has displayed. She has been severely tried, as her 
testimony shows ; but throughout, all her faith has triumphed. 

May this chapter of her christian experience, prove an inspira- 
tion to many, to hearken to the Divine voices that sound within 
them, promptly responding to each call to service " Here am I, 
Lord send me." 

R. H. BOSWORTH. 



Morris, Otsego Co,, N. Y., May 9, 1895. 
My Dear Sister Burns : 

It gives me pleasure to learn that you intend to publish, in 
book form, the article entitled: " A Vision and a Voice from Two 
Worlds," which you read to me in part. I think when I was 
your pastor, and the pastor of the old Johnson Street Methodist 
Episcopal Church : To the worldly minded it may not perhaps 
prove so attractive as it should be, yet to the Christian I am quite 
sure that it must be helpful, a means of grace on account of 
what I know to be its spiritual influence. 



30 



I shall remember you always, my dear Sister, as an earnest, ac- 
tive, devoted, and consistent follower of the blessed Master, and 
as one who greatly aided me and encouraged me in my pastorate 
of three years, by the faithfulness of your attendance upon all 
the means of grace, and also, by your unceasing activity in "well 
doing," both by word and deed. 

Wishing you the utmost success in the disposal of your publica- 
tions, and asking you to kindly forward me a copy of your book 
by mail as soon as published, 

I remain, my dear Sister, 

Very sincerely yours, 

THOS. D. LITTLEWOOD, A. M. 



From the Rev. E. E. Knapp, Pastor of the Central Baptist 
Church, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Mrs. Burns has been known to me for several years as an 
earnest Christian, laboring among the sorrowing and distressed, 
always with a good word for Jesus ; and I am sure her story, in 
its corroboration of Scripture, truth, and lifting up of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, will be read with interest and profit by every lover 
of our Lord, who may receive a copy. 

Cordially, 

E. E. KNAPP. 

June, 1895. 



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